Hold On
by weasel-dust
Summary: A tale of sorrow, love, and betrayal. Falling in love during a time of war, Angela doesn't realize that the necklace she constantly wears contains a legendary power, already lost in the world of Mana. Angela-Hawkeye.
1. Ceremony

**Hold On**

**Chapter 1:** The Ceremony

**Author's Note:** I don't own Seiken Densetsu 3 or any of its characters - Square soft does. I'm just a fan.

Princess Angela!

Angela took a deep breath. Looking in the mirror once again, she was uncertain of everything that was approaching. She gripped her necklace, a famous jewel named the Spectral Diamond. It shimmered with the light from the sun, as if sending rays of hope into her mind. It was silver with a single prismatic diamond hanging from its thin chain. Her mother gave her this jewel the night before she was murdered. She wore it constantly, never letting it out of her sight.

She turned her head to see the small finches out the window, hopping and chirping joyfully. How they reminded her of the past, when she used to chase them off the balcony, laughing, while Jose watched from behind. It was always Jose, the elderly magic teacher, watching her. The ice was glowing with the reflection of the sun. It looked like a pool of gold. How she wished she could be there again. How she wished she could just go back in time, how she wished she could change the past.

She couldn't stop thinking about her mother. They didn't have many memories together, and most of the ones they did have were tragic and best forgotten. To her, it was unfair. Just when her mother started loving her, she had to die. Angela hoped that after the Mana Tree had been restored, everything would be better. And it was, but only for a short period of time.

Her father was an unknown being. She had never met him and hoped to never meet him. He left her mother, saying he had to battle a fierce dragon, but he never returned. Instead, after the battle, he scurried off to his own country, for he felt he would lose his honor serving Altena. Now, Angela would never get to experience that love that all children receive from their parents. It all happened too soon.

Princess! The Crowning Ceremony is about to start! Please hurry!"

Still, Angela paid no attention to the plea. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her loose, white robe was long enough to cover her hands. It was supposedly a symbol of wisdom and reason, the two things her mother was known for best. After all, she wasn't being crowned for her beauty. She lowered her head, ignoring the sound of footsteps running up the stone stairs.

"I know it's hard to take in and to live on like this, but please, we all need you now", Victor said, placing his hand on her shoulder. He could feel her shaking. Maybe she was shaking of fright or cold, or maybe she was trying to hold back her tears.

Without a word spoken from her mouth, Angela slowly walked towards the bridge connecting the castle and town. Her shoes could be clearly heard over the silence of the castle. Everyone and everything was quiet. Some people were crying, but she knew they didn't feel the pain she did. Their time of mourning was about to end.

Finally, she reached the bridge, Victor close behind her. There, was an old friend, the High Priest of Wendel, holding the crown and royal scepter. He placed the crown upon her head, gave her the scepter and a blessing. She thought she was not worthy of accepting these instruments of her mother, but she had to. She could not back down now. As the old priest drew closer, she swallowed her breath.

"Due to Queen Valda's death, I now pronounce you, Princess Angela, by your royal blood, Queen of Altena." the old priest announced.

As she walked up the bridge leading to the throne room, she could hear the villagers cheering for their new queen. It was strange how they can adjust to a new ruler so quickly. It would surely take longer for her to adapt to this change. She refused to party with all the nobles. Instead, she sat on her throne, feeling her magic power slowly draining away, being used to heat the castle town.

As the stars began to appear, Angela proceeded through the many hallways and doors leading to her bedroom. The walls were covered with posters and banners of the new fashion in town. As for the rest of the room, it was just bookcases filled with spell books, a Mana Goddess Statue near the window, and a soft comfortable bed. She took off her crown and placed it on the window sill, hoping it would fall with all her responsibilities. She plopped down onto the navy satin sheets of her bed. Although her bed was comfortable beyond belief, she couldn't fall asleep. She gazed out the window, but didn't see the pool of gold. It was too dark to see anything at all.


	2. Start of A New Journey

**Hold On**

**Chapter 2**: Start of a New Journey

**Author's Note**: The idea of Angela's favorite meal being Rabbit Risotto came from Star Ocean 2. It's Celine's favorite meal and since Celine reminds me of Angela, I just thought I'd make their taste the same. Anyone recognize General Rush?

A peaceful sun dawned upon Altena castle, slowly changing the sky's dark indigo color into a light cerulean. The townspeople began awakening, strolling outside their homes to greet the morning sun. The pine trees' lights' glow was faint now, just as the haze in the atmosphere.

Light shined through Angela's bedroom windows, tickling her cheeks. She stretched her arms and yawned. Then, with the snap of her fingers, three female servants, each about 16 years old, immediately dashed into the room. Their clothing was identical: hair tied with hankercheifs, long brown rags that could be passed for as dresses, and pure white aprons.

What do you wish for us to do today, your highness? one of them asked in a timid voice.

The usual, and make sure your hands are clean. I don't want dirty hands touching my hair! Angela replied. Immediately, the three girls got to work. One of them applied black eye shadow and scarlet lipstick onto Angela's face. The other brushed the queen's straight, long, violet hair into the usual hair style. The last one picked a dress out the queen's royal closet and started helping her get dressed into it.

Finally, the servants' jobs were completed. With no other task to accomplish, they left the room in search of more work. Angela gazed at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a strapless crimson dress that had two sashes reaching from her waist to the floor. She wore the Spectral Diamond on her neck and two ruby earrings on her ears. Instead of tights, she wore jeweled thigh-highs, also red. Her perfume smelled of freshly picked roses. Pleased with her appearance, she started posing to the mirror.

Once again, her kind blonde friend, Victor, came running up the steps.

he paused, Queen, you look beautifulI know I do, Angela replied, still posing to the mirror.

There are investigators down at the throne room waiting to see you. They aren't very patient, your highness. You must hurry or else they may leave. Victor said.

Fine, I'll go the queen sighed. Hey, Victor, are the investigators cute? she asked, as they sauntered through the extensive hallway. Victor didn't answer, he just chuckled. He was happy to see Angela back to her former, spoiled, flirtatious self.

The hallway in which the queen and her friend were wandering through was literally full of open doors. The smell of Angela's favorite meal, Rabite Risotto, was coming from the kitchen and spreading throughout that small portion of the castle. Every single individual that passed by bowed and greeted the queen hesistantly and fearfully. In response, Angela thanked them, dispassionately, as she didn't care very much for their presence.

It took many steps, but the two finally reached the throne room. Ever since former Queen, Valda, began loving Angela like an actual daughter, possibly the whole castle had been remodeled. Now, the former stone floor was now made of dark blue marble. The throne, too, had changed. It was now sparkling silver, embroidered with sapphire jewels on its arms. There, beside the almost-glowing chair, stood three men with fuzzy white beards, dressed in long gray robes that were tied with rope at their waists. Their hoods overshadowed their blind eyes. Although they were investigators, they looked much more like monks, only a bit more disturbing.

Also beside the throne, stood the great Military Leader, Rush. He was young (around the queen's age), his armor still keeping its shine. His blonde hair was spiky and shiny, with a few strands falling to his eyes. He was a very impatient fellow, but good in battle, none the less. Despite his participation in former rebel groups, the queen trusted him more than any other soldier. Although his job as general required much work, all he really did was make battle strategies and order around his assistant. Originally, Rush was supposed to be a weapon shop owner, but once he saw the position for general open, he took it with pleasure.

Next to the general, stood his assistant, Mooshio. He was constantly nervous, sweaty, and always eating something. He was a rather chubby fellow, and was rarely allowed into the throne room, but since Rush was there, so was he. He always completed the tasks that his idol, General Rush, gave him, no matter how difficult they were.

Now was the moment for Angela to change her attitude. She elegantly walked up the sapphire carpet and onto her throne. After she had positioned herself on the throne, the three men bowed in respect. At that exact moment, Victor left the room, as he was not to get involved in these political affairs.

I'm unbelievably sorry for keeping you waiting for such an unreasonably long period of time. Now, I understand you are investigators. What have you discovered thus far? the queen announced, in an unusually proper tone that didn't suit her very well.

Well, your highness, we believe we may have a clue as to who murdered your mother. At the scene of the crime, we found poison needles. The only classes of warrior that use the poison needles are Nightblades. The first one spoke.

The only places where these assassins can be found are in the Cave of Darkness, Mana Holy Land, and Navarre. one said.

Last time we checked, Mana Holy Land and the Cave of Darkness were empty of all the evil. This leaves Navarre to be the only answer. In conclusion, your highness, we are quite confident that Navarre soldiers killed your mother. The last one said.

Navarre?! What could that kingdom possibly want from us?! This makes no sense Angela shouted, shocked. It doesn't matter. General Rush, give me my staff and get the soldiers ready. We're going to war.But your highness, how will we get there? According to our latest research, there aren't any ships that go to Navarre. And there are no dragons around here willing to fly us over. Plus, the airship that Koren once used six whole months ago is no longer functional. The General announced.

That's why we're going to Forcena first. I have a friend there; maybe you can even call her a form of transportation. While I'm gone, I leave you, General, in charge. Now, get the mages ready before I lose all my patience. Angela ordered, as she left throne room, her high-heeled-shoes banging on the marble floor.

"Mooshio, you heard her highness, get the mages ready. And send messengers out recruiting soldiers, pronto!", the general ordered as soon as he was sure the queen was gone.

The messengers themselves used teleporting magic, just as the castle's mages. In a split second, the two messengers disappeared.

Using their swift teleporting magic, mages from all over the kingdom assembled outside the castle walls. Guided by one of Altena's greatest sorcerers, they marched single-file into the castle to get their battle gear, which included staffs and battle uniforms.

A short man with a thin black mustache, most likely one of the castle scribes, chased after the queen as she entered her bedroom. His striped green and yellow robe was slightly flowing through the air as he ran to the queen, carrying a paper and quill pen.

Please, your highness, you must sign this document declaring war against Navarre.

Angela turned around, frustrated. She grabbed the quill pen right out of the man's hand and signed the paper, without even giving it a second thought. The scribe ran away as soon as he could, afraid of the queen's frustration.

That was it. War had begun because of a single signature.

Just like the mages, Angela, too, was getting ready for the war. She packed some clothing and a few snacks into a bag, which she would fill with more items once the army reached Navarre. It was her second day as ruling queen, and she had already declared war. Was this the right thing to do?

Of course it was. She had a reason to seek vengeance. At least she thought she did. She didn't want to seem as evil and wicked as the people who killed her mother. She dared not to think about it. After all, it was already too late. She already signed the document declaring war, and there were already thousands of soldiers outside, waiting for the command to strike. Reconsidering her decision was pointless now.

There was one more thing she intended to accomplish before leaving. While a servant carried her travel bag to the ship, Angela confidently walked through the busy hall to the empty courtyard. The trees weren't decorated at all, nor were they glowing, but the area was still immensely beautiful, in a natural sort of way. It was something rare to find in Altena - just regular scenery. Leaves falling off the trees danced in the breeze, like careless children playing a game.

Angela remembered that before the whole "Save the Mana Tree" quest started, before her mother died, before she was ever banished from the kingdom, she would always find Victor here. Now, he was here again, sitting under the same tree as always, humming the same tune as always. She sat down beside him.

"I'm leaving for Navarre right now. Goodbye, Victor. I don't know when I'll ever see you again," she said, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible. She didn't want to get too emotional around anyone, not even her best friend. She hated saying goodbye. Angela hugged Victor for a short moment and left, not even allowing him to reply to her untimely farewell. He continued to sit there, whispering the typical words that someone in love says while plucking petals off a daisy.

"She loves me."

"She loves me not."


	3. The Knight and His Dragon

**Hold On**

**Chapter 3:** The Knight and his Dragon

Angela boarded the wooden ship, giving one last glance at her country. The sun was just setting, slowly darkening its color. Since this trip was on such short notice, the queen didn't get the usual, beautiful cruise ship she used for regular trips. Instead, she got a lame excuse for a sailboat. Originally, there was no bay near the castle town, but after the Dragon Emperor was defeated and peace was restored, Queen Valda, along with other powerful magicians, created a valley between the mountains near the castle. This was where Angela and her army were departing from.

The boat rocked on the gentle waves of the small, pure blue river. Inexperienced mages used their weak wind spells towards the sails of the ship. Their spells were strong enough to get the boat moving, and weak enough not to damage anyone or anything too harshly. The ride was calm and rather soothing for Angela. It was almost like a cruise, only on an ugly wooden sailboat. She could hear the seagulls, but their "chirping" wasn't as pleasant as the chirping from the birds back home. She stared off at the many villagers waving goodbye to their loved ones, growing more and more distant. She tried to see if Victor was there waving goodbye to her, but the boat was moving too much to get a clear view of anyone.

As night began, the ship finally moved into the endless sea. Angela stared down into the ocean that was reflecting the dark color of the night sky. A few ice bergs were in sight, but none were big enough to sink the wooden craft. The gentle waves became more and more violent, causing many mages to start vomitting off the side of the deck. Angela gave a look of disgust to each of them, as she smelled both their puke and the salt of the sea. Already, she could hear the drunken sailors and soldiers partying downstairs.

"Mother, please, tell me if war was a good decision..." She whispered, her eyes closed, as if praying, feeling the breeze blow back her long, violet hair.

All the stress was making her tired, and she longed for someone to discuss her problems with. If only Victor could've come. Back in the past, she had questioned her feelings for her best friend, but after talking it through with him, they agreed not to change their friendship into something more. Yet, Victor was obviously in love.

Angela sighed. She walked downstairs into the small, practically empty room that was her temporary bedroom. Luckily this room was especially isolated from the mages' and sailors' quarters. Thus, she could hear no more of their shouts and drunken laughter. She removed her tight red outfit (which appeared to be more of a bathing suit than an actual outfit), along with the removal of her knee-high boots and thigh-highs. Too lazy to put on or even look for her night gown, she fell asleep in nothing but underwear, covered by the warm blankets of her cheap bunk. The boat rocked her to sleep, like a soft-spoken whisper in her ear.

Night passed, and soon, the moon was replaced by the golden sun.

The ship came to an abrupt stop. The rusty anchor was let loose and the plank was pulled down. The loud, sharp noise of a trumpet woke Angela up.

"Presenting the Honorable Queen of Wisdom, the Queen of Altena, ... ... ... Her Elegancy, Queen Angela!" The trumpeteer announced loud enough for the entire army to hear.

Hearing the message, Angela's eyes shot wide open. Her heart began to beat fast, adrenaline shooting throughout her body. She jumped out of bed and glanced briefly out the window. The entire army was lined up in two long rows extending vertically, with two trumpeteers in the front. There were also a few villagers from the Free City, Maia, awaiting the arrival of her majesty. Judging from the position of the sun, it was near noon.

"Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, CRAP!!!" She repeated while walking back and forth in anxiety. She put on a random outfit and brushed her hair harshly, just enough for it to look decent. Just before leaving her room, she slipped on her knee-high boots and grabbed a random lipstick. While sprinting up the stairs, she applied the lipstick and fixed up her hair a bit.

Outside, one man cleared his throat, but other than that, there was complete and utter silence. A few minutes passed until Angela finally appeared. She walked onto the deck and down the wooden plank like a fashion model: one foot infront of the other, always walking in a straight line. She was wearing a strapless lavender leotard, with green lipstick that matched her eyes, and long dark violet gloves that reached to her elbows. Her straight hair was down, and since she had brushed it briefly, it didn't look too messy. Immediately, the entire army bowed in unison, as the villagers began applauding and the trumpeteers blew their trumpets.

Angela and her large army walked through the golden streets of the Free City Maia, ignoring the people who stared at them in fear. The villagers still couldn't forget the attack on Forcena. That so-called war gave Altena a bad reputation in all of Forcena. Of course, the same could be said between Rolante and Navarre. That period of time, the reign of war, was possibly one of the worst in history.

The army stopped at the Alchemist's house, where only the queen and her personal bodyguard (who was a silent, well-built, bald man) entered. Inside the small cottage was a large fireplace, with a table atop a light green carpet, two chairs, and finally one bed with green and white checkered blankets. Next to the fire stood a woman with plain curly blue hair, and nothing on but a bra and long, wavy, pink skirt. She walked back and forth pointlessly.

"Where's Bon Voyage? Is he even still alive?" Angela demanded in a forceful, commanding voice.

"Oh, him? He's out back, working on another of his stupid inventions. He calls himself an alchemist but all he is a wannabe inventor with a jester's costume!" The gypsy-looking woman replied, without pausing her constant walking.

"Ok...," Angela said, slowly walking towards the door leading to the outside. While she walked she stared at the blue-haired girl as if she had a cockroach on her face. The girl seemed a bit crazy.

"I'm his sister. Really. There's just one bed because we didn't have enough money to buy another one. Really. He sleeps on the floor. Really," the girl constantly repeated as Angela and her bodyguard left.

There, standing beside a large metal cannon with gold patterns on it, stood a short chubby man. He wore the costume of a jester with green and white stripes as its pattern. He stood in place, tapping his foot like a mad man, until he saw the queen and her guard enter the yard. It was obvious he had too much sugar. He jumped into the air frantically and then greeted them.

"Hello Ladies and Gentlemen. I mean your highness and her royal.... soldier? Anyway, what could I do for you today?!?!?!"

"Bonny, get the cannon loaded. We're using it." Angela commanded, tossing Bon Voyage a luc which he happily accepted.

After fixing a few things in the rusty cannon with a screwdriver, the short, chubby man added and lit the gunpowder. Then, he jumped up once again, which was the signal to enter the cannon. A loud blast was heard throughout the town, and the ground shortly rumbled. The two were hurled through the air just like cannonballs, but because of the strength of the gunpowder, they flew high enough to have a birds-eye view of the entire country. Somehow, no one considered this a dangerous procedure.

"Ouch! I broke a nail!", the queen complained, as she got up from the flat, grassy ground she landed on. "Don't worry, Bob, I'm all right", she said to her bodyguard, whose name was Bob. The man just nodded, for a he never spoke a word. He wasn't mute; he just took a vow of silence when he entered the business of guarding bodies.

Angela strolled through the grass plains. All the weak monsters were killed with just one blow from Bob's arrows, sword, or magic. He had numerous weapons - all used for protecting the her royal excellency.

They reached the town quite quickly. It was a peaceful village; the kind where everyone treated one another like family. A few kids played around the Inn/Item Shop, laughing while being chased by one of the many dogs of the town. Of course, the dog would not harm them; it was all a game. Among the kids, ran a small girl, with pale brown curly hair, reaching down to her shoulders. She looked and acted just like the other girls of Forcena, always cheerful.

"Hey, little girl, do you know where Duran is?" Angela asked, as nicely as she could.

"You mean Big Brother Duran?" The little girl questioned curiously.

"Yes, yes, Big Brother Duran... where is he? At home?" The queen asked once more, attempting not to lose her patience. Obviously, she wasn't good at dealing with kids.

"You're his girlfriend, right?"

"Well... that's a rather personal question, don't you think? Now, where is he?"

"Who?"

"Duran! Big Brother Duran! Where is he?!"

"Oh, him.... ummm... I don't know. Probably in the castle. I'm Wendy, his lil sis!" The little girl said happily, showing an extremely innocent smile upon her face.

"Thank you, Wendy," Angela said, gently patting Wendy's head.

The queen and her bodyguard proceded to the castle, following the silver brick road. As they passed the group of laughing children, the queen muttered, "I hate little kids."

Soon enough, the road ended and a large wooden gate stood before the two. It was always open to the public, whether that be the local villagers or foreign diplomats. Unlike the castle wall, the gate was in the best condition possible. It was rimmed with gold, and even the wood that it was made out of shined. Beside the gateway stood a motionless soldier covered with armor from head to toe. He stared blankly, most likely daydreaming. Atop his helmet was a long yellow feather that drooped off his head like a dead flower. This was the ordinary uniform for a Forcenan guard.

The queen and her guard passed the frozen soldier as they walked through the open gateway. The so-called "courtyard" was made of stone, with no trees or plant-life around whatsoever. Angela walked straight forward and up the small steps that led to the inside of the palace. The floor was maroon colored marble, clean and waxed enough to see a clear reflection of oneself. Beneath the queen's feet was a red carpet, embroidered with gold thread. Angela continued confidently walking straight forward, following the red carpet, as if allowing it to lead her. At every door she passed, stood a guard, and every guard she passed greeted her with a small bow. It was repetitive after awhile.

The castle walls displayed paintings of the many kings and queens of Forcena, yet, near King Richard's portrait, there was no queen. He was a lonely man, but he loved visitors.

They passed through one door after another. Every hallway looked the same, but Angela had memorized the path to King Richard. The castle had a simple design, so to get to the throne room, you just had to head straight. Finally, they walked through the last door, entering the throne room. There, upon the golden throne, sat the honorable King Richard. He hadn't changed much since the last time Angela had seen him. He still wore thick green and gold armor, with a royal violet cape reaching to the floor. Yet, he seemed different.

"Greetings, King Richard!" Angela said in a proper tone of voice. Now that she was queen, she couldn't act like a spoiled brat anymore, especially when she was near other royal beings.

"Queen Angela! How unexpected!" The king's smile suddenly faded away. "I heard about Valda and I am very sorry. She was such a great woman... smart, courageous, and so... beautiful... please, let me assist you in any way possible." Richard continued, his frown covered by his partly gray beard.

"Thank you. I came across the sea all the way over here to speak with one of your knights, Duran. He was one of my former comrades," she said.

"Oh, of course, I understand completely," the king said, winking. Then, he screamed possibly the most commanding shout Angela had ever heard. It was like a father calling his troublesome son. "DURAN!!!!"

From the distance, the sound of clanking armor was heard. In a few seconds, Duran dashed into the room, practically sliding on the long red carpet. He immediately jumped back on his feet and momentarily posed. His somewhat-curly hair was still orange as the setting sun, but now he was a Knight of Gold, just like his father. Instead of wearing a regular soldier's uniform, he wore shining white armor, with a bit of gold here and there. He looked much like a paladin, which he actually was, both in appearance, skill, and personality.

"Yes, your majesty?" The knight said, bowing before the king, his head hanging low.

"Queen Angela requests to talk to you," the king answered.

Duran turned around to Angela. He stood, with his mouth slightly open, staring in awe at her face. Finally, after a few seconds, he knelt down on one knee, embarassed.

"Yes, your highness? It is an honor to be of service of you, my Queen," he said, not daring to look at her face once again in fear of feeling even more humiliation.

Suddenly, Angela was full of rage. One of her best of friends dared not to call her by name. He dared not to even look her in the eye. She thought that her friends would still treat her like the same Angela she was, like "Princess Angela". When she was a princess, they didn't call her any special titles, or bow to her. She just wanted it to be the same way as before her mother died. Now that she was queen, everyone was treating her differently, and she didn't enjoy it.

"First of all, Duran, call me by my name. And stand up, you look like an idiot, bowing to me and addressing me as if I had changed SO much just because I became queen," Angela commanded in an irritated voice, "We're friends, remember? Anyway, I came here to get the Flammie Drum. I need to go to Navarre for a... business trip."

"Uhh... ummm... I... I'm," Duran arose from his kneeling position and for a few minutes just stood in place, devastated at Angela's reply. Before he could actually answer, King Richard dropped into the conversation.

"Duran! Give the drum to Queen Angela and accompany her on her voyage to Navarre. I believe that as a Knight of Gold, you will be worthy of this mission. Queen, you don't mind if Duran comes along, do you? The king said.

Angela shook her head, but for some reason, she doubted she made the best decision. Coming to Forcena, she didn't plan on gaining back old companions. She felt like refusing Duran's assistance. After all, she already had a bodyguard and she didn't want to trouble any more people.

"Then it's settled. Duran, you will be the queen's personal bodyguard!" The king cheered. "Now, go to Navarre! Go! Go!"

Angela let out of a small sigh as she slowly walked out of the throne room, both of her bodyguards obediantly following her. The three passed through the empty halls silently. Duran and Bob marched as Angela sauntered, and no sounds were heard except for the beat of their feet against the marble floor. When they reached the courtyard, Angela finally broke the silence.

"Duran, don't you have to pack anything? It's going to be a long trip," she asked, trying to begin a conversation.

"Nope, nothing at all," Duran replied, his large grin practically covering his face.

"Listen, I'm sorry for yelling at you in front of the king. You don't have to treat me specially just because I'm a queen. I haven't changed that drastically, have I?" She said, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"Well, you're a lot nicer now!" Duran said, faintly blushing, with that big smile remaining upon his face.

Angela slightly smiled, barely listening to his reply. Then, she realized what changed so much about her: her affection towards Duran. Before, when she was a spoiled princess, she always flirted with him and any other guy she found attractive. Now, she was a queen, and she had to act more mature. It was a rule for royalty. Her crush had just faded away over time. After all, it had been six months since they last saw each other.

While she was reminiscing, she didn't notice that Duran was pounding the Flammie drum. Suddenly, a heavy wind blew through the entire town and above the two flew a large white dragon covered with soft feathers. Atop her head were a few orange and cerulean colored feathers, just barely covering her baby blue eyes. She let out a small purr as she lowered her long tail, as if it were a stairway. The queen and her two bodyguards climbed aboard the tail and onto the dragon.

"It's been awhile, Flammie. First, let's pick up my army in Maia. Then, how about going to Navarre?"Angela whispered softly. Within seconds, she was happily flying in the sky, one with the clouds and the wind.


	4. Raven

**Hold On**

**Chapter 4:** Raven

Cuddling in Flammie's soft feathers, Angela didn't realize the army was already right above Oasis Village Deen. She turned her head to the ground and all she could see below her was the dry, empty desert. Few monsters still roamed the area, but every one of them looked smaller and weaker than before. Eversince the Mana Goddess was reincarnated as the Faerie, the quantity of monsters in the world had decreased greatly.

The sky was clear and the sun was warming Angela's face but at the same moment, blinding her. As she sat up, she saw only about two dozen mages sitting beside her on the winged beast. Although a bit disappointed, she knew they were all Flammie could carry. Yet, she was certain they weren't enough to win a war.

The white dragon's wings flapped up and down as she lowered herself onto the ground, causing sand to spread through the air like a tornado. Finally, she landed on the sand with a loud thud and rumble of the ground. As mages began departing from her back, she grabbed a rhino-like monster and ate it in one gulp. Then, she laid down, resting her head on her claws, and went to sleep.

Stepping onto the soft sand, Angela could already feel difference in the climate between Navarre and Altena. The air was so dense and humid. The trees weren't decorated at all, but they looked beautiful anyway - beautiful in a strange, tropical, kind of way. There was no snow or rivers, just all dryland. Eversince Mana had disappeared, the people of Navarre tried replanting the jungle, and so for, it was evident their attempt had been somewhat of a success.

After a few steps, the army entered Oasis Village Deen. It had a homely feeling to it. The shops weren't busy, nor were the streets. Near the shore, laughing children could be seen playing, along side chatting fishermen. The houses were made of wood, painted peach with blue roof tops. There was no fighting, no worries on the people's minds. It was a place where people came to rest, where sea captains came to share their ghost stories, where criminals came to start a new life. It was as if the village was hidden from reality.

"You six, occupy this city right now. You, place all my stuff at the Inn. You, call Flammie and tell her to deliver more soldiers over here. The rest of you, set up camp on the outskirts of town!" Angela ordered, pointing to various soldiers. There was no time for her to relax and fully absorb her surroundings.

The soldiers nodded and immediately got to work as the queen and her two bodyguards entered the town. Blocks of ice came crashing down into Deen, just barely avoiding hitting houses. All the villagers fled into their small homes until there was only one man standing outside. He looked just like all the other village elders but unlike them, he showed no sign of worry on his face. His bushy eyebrows overshadowed his eyes, and his gray mustache covered his frowning lips. He calmly walked towards the queen, holding his hands behind his back.

"As the elder of this small village, I beg you to show mercy on us and let us continue living here in peace." He said, still showing no emotion upon his face.

"Old man, I have no time for your requests. I'll do as I please, but I'll tell you this: Don't worry for your villagers, my army won't harm them." Angela replied.

"Thank you for your kindness, your majesty," he said, as he tried bowing to the queen without injuring his back or any other weak parts of his old body. He gave up and just lowered his head instead.

Overhearing the conversation, the many villagers began stepping outside their homes and continued their daily routines with little hesistation. The same group of little kids came back to play at the shore, along with the fishermen. The mages were ordered not to harm the villagers and to keep everything the way it was. The only things to be taken from the town were the weapons and armor. The queen liked the Oasis Village, and she didn't want its peace and tranquility to cease.

Angela pushed past all the wandering villagers until she reached the Inn. With one gentle push, the wooden door opened fully. Inside, it was like any other regular inn, despite the multiple bags of Angela's clothing. The walls were painted peach, with a few windows near each of the three beds. On the wooden floor lay two large bags filled with the queen's clothing. Behind the counter was the Inn keeper, dressed in pale white with a turban-like hat on his head. He was moving his hands back and forth, dancing an odd dance.

"Hello. How may I help you today?" The keeper asked politely.

"I just came here to change my clothes," Angela replied.

"Oh, go ahead," the Inn keeper said with no hesitation. He still remained behind the counter, dancing his bizarre dance, not showing the slightest bit of care that the Queen of Altena, the most powerful woman in the world, was planning to undress in the same room he was in. He continued his little dance as if it was all that was on his mind. Wait... it probably WAS all that was on his mind.

"Umm... could you leave?" The queen asked, feeling a bit awkward for having to ask such a question. No one ever dared be stupid enough not to leave before hand.

"Sure!" The strange man cheered as he opened up the counter and walked outside, still dancing.

No matter how much Angela loved the town, she believed the villagers were a little... off.

"Well, that was pointless...," she mumbled to herself.

With the inn keeper far away now, she took off her navy blue leotard that she wore the previous day. Then, she reached into her leather bag for a bright red bikini with thin golden straps. She dressed into it, tying the strings tightly. Then, with no mirrors in sight, she brushed her long, straight, lavendar hair for just a brief moment. Quite satisfied with her appearance, she pulled the copper knob of the door and stepped back outside. She had an entire schedule of events to follow today. It was the day for her to counterattack.

She stepped outside into the fresh air. Beside the Inn's door stood her bodyguard, Duran. His face was turned to the ground, the shadow of his head piece over his cerulean eyes. As soon as Angela skipped right passed him, he began following her.

"Angela, I have been thinking about this for a long time... I need tell you something very important...," Duran asked, nervous with every word.

Finally, Angela turned around to him. On her face was a cheerful look. For possibly the first time in her life, she was eager to hear what he had to say.

"Umm....," he blushed bright red, holding back his words. He took a few long, deep breaths before continuing. "Shouldn't we have occupied the kingdom capital first?" He asked.

Angela turned back around and let out a sigh of disappointment. She pranced off to the Item Shop, and right before she opened the door, she replied to Duran's question.

"Well, yeah, but I have to go shopping first!" She replied merrily.

"Phew, that was a close one," he sighed. After brushing the sweat off his face, he entered the shop.

The item shop looked exactly like the Inn, except without the beds. It had a wooden floor, with peach painted walls, and a few windows here and there. Behind the counter, was a short old woman, with seaweed-colored hair, a hat practically wrapped around her head, and small spectacles hanging off her small, round nose.

"Good afternoon, y-your h-highness, how are you today?" The old lady behind the counter asked nervously, putting on a fake smile.

"Fine, thanks. Now, give me 18 of everything you've got. No, wait! Forget the stardust herbs, those are icky. Actually, wait, give me 20 Angel's Grails. No, actually, umm.... how about some extra chocolate? Yeah, that's it. And whatever Duran can't carry, I'll put into storage." Angela said.

The old lady nodded and walked to the back of the shop to retrieve the items. She came back in a second, carrying half of the order. Then, she returned to the back to gather the rest.

"Excuse me, your highness, that's 9,000 luc." The item shop lady said.

"Sure. Here you go." Angela said, paying for the items, as if 9,000 luc was as much as a mere single luc.

"Come on, Duran, let's get going," she said, signaling for him to follow.

Duran picked up the items, and although he had trouble carrying them, he followed her anyway. After the items had been equally distributed to a dozen mages, it was time to head into the desert.

The mages were aligned in three rows of four, all of them ready for battle. As Angela, alongside Duran, left the town and began wandering in the desert, the army of twelve followed.

Many hours of wandering aimlessly in the desert passed. Angela, being as stubborn as she was, thought she knew where she was going, and no one dared question her order of direction. The scorching sun was at its hottest during this time of the afternoon. Luckily, the mages had hats to provide shade for their faces. Although it was hot, humid, and uncomfortable, Angela didn't even consider the option of turning back. She was determined to kill the first ninja she saw.

"Ok, I admit it. I was wrong. We're-" Suddenly, just before the queen could admit they were lost, she felt a shadow run past her. "Get him!" She shouted, pointing at the masked assassin that was now running into a herd of golden rhino. The many rhinoceros-like monsters ignored the ninja as he steathily dashed passed by them, their golden eyes not even turning towards him.

The army of mages, on the other hand, watched his every movement, chasing him through the confusing maze-like pathways he took. They floated a few feet above the sand, low enough to spot the running ninja, but high enough to avoid injuries from any of the cacti or monsters.

Left, Right, Right, Straight; the path never seemed to end.

The last turn led them to a dead end. The entrance was blocked off by a puddle of quicksand too big to jump over. Right before them was the deserter, the one had been chasing all this time. To their surprise, he was alone but didn't seem a bit nervous. He stopped and briefly glanced at them. Whirlwinds flew out of his palms, pushing sand from beneath their feet to the army's eyes.

Angela rubbed her eyes, scratching out the sand. When her vision cleared up, she saw that the area was completely empty.

"What the hell is going on here?!" Angela said in panic, remaining in her fighter stance.

It was a trap.

Over three dozen ninjas appeared from the tall, sand-covered cliffs. They pounced onto the mages like wolves capturing their prey. They left the wizards helpless and outnumbered. The assassins' faces were hidden behind a slightly transparent cloth, concealing their facical expressions. Their long, torn capes blew as they swiftly slashed with each of their two daggers. Also upon each of their backs were two ninjas swords, just in case they weren't comfortable using daggers.

"Navarre must have expected an attack. I'm sure they killed Mother," Angela whispered to herself.

Before the first strike was made, she tore off her necklace and securely tied it around her ponytail, under all her hair.

The battle began.

Shurikens and fireballs ricocheted and although it seemed like a fair match, the mages were still at a disadvantage. It was a closed in area, and they barely had enough time to chant before the ninjas hit them several times. It was unfamiliar territory, and there was no place to hide, no place to run.

Angela saw this and began doing her best to help. She struck a few ninjas at the back of their skulls, knocking some of them out, but she knew she wasn't helping much. She was the strongest magic user of the entire army, and she had to take advantage of that. So, she began chanting her most powerful magic spell, but just when she started, someone grabbed her from behind. Her mouth was covered by a gloved hand for a second, and then she was lifted off the ground and hauled onto someone's shoulder. She screamed, but her cries weren't heard over the sound of battle.

Yet, even through all the chaos, Duran knew she was gone. He was watching her throughout the entire battle. He pushed through the battling soldiers, not caring about all the wounds he was receiving.

"Get off of me!" Angela screamed. In an attempt to loosen the napper's grip, she started kicking and punching, but it did no good. Suddenly, large green and purple bubbles popped above her head, poisoning her immediately. Before she could react, flower petals surrounded her, making her the center of a small tornado. They flew around her, and as she breathed in their sweet scent, all she could do was sleep. Her vision blurred away, allowing her to catch one last glimpse of her losing army. The last thing she heard was the sound of Duran's gruff voice, calling her name in a futile attempt to find her.

---

Angela opened her eyes to find herself chained, by her wrists, to a dungeon wall. Although it was a small cell, it reeked of ashes and urine, and the tiny window didn't provide enough air to dispose of the odor. On the sandstone floor were a few bones and rusty chains, and beside them was an old mug filled with dirty water. In the ground was a small hole, probably used to let out unnecessary bodily liquids. Torches lying in the hallway were the only sources of light or heat in the entire dungeon. It was cold in the desert during this time of night.

Angela felt horribly nauseous, able to feel her body weakening with every breath she took. The poison was draining away all her strength, and she had no way of stopping it. All of her items were taken away, all she had left was the bikini she was wearing. Although healing magic would be useful at times like these, she would never trade away her offensive magic. She was an attacker, an aggressor.

A loud, metallic noise was heard throughout the dungeon. Something heavy fell onto the ground. The door to Angela's cell creaked open and someone walked right through.

He strutted through the door, his boots making much noise on the stone floor. At his sides, he held two curved daggers, along with a few silver shurikens on his belt. He wore a rough cotton vest, flaunting his well-toned arms. And his lavender ponytail slightly swung back and worth as he walked. He was really freakin hot, too.

"An exhausted queen, wearing a bikini, chained to the wall - Am I lucky as Hell or what?" He said, a toothpick between his lips.

"Don't get any ideas, pervert...," Angela mumbled, wearily. She had recognized the person's voice. It was Hawkeye.

"Aw, too late," he laughed.

Hawkeye came closer and closer to Angela, until he knelt down on one knee beside her. Now, they were just an inch apart, possibly the closest they had ever come towards each other. Hawkeye removed the toothpick from his mouth and began fiddling with the lock. That was the only sound throughout the entire dungeon. The clicking of a lock slowly breaking.

The first lock broke. The short chain hung off the wall, as Angela's hand fell free. She smiled, and turned her head to Hawkeye, who was working on setting free her other hand.

"Hawkeye?" She asked in a soft, gentle voice.

He didn't reply, still concentrating on the lock.

"Hawkeye?" She asked again.

As the toothpick fell from Hawkeye's fingertips, Angela's hand gently fell from the wall, her skin now free of the rusty chain. She stood up straight, and brushed some dirt off her butt.

"Hawkeye, take me to Flame Kahn," she commanded, but not in a voice she used to address servants. She spoke as gently as she could, ending her sentence with an innocent smile.

"You wanna get killed?" He replied sarcastically, lifting one of his eye brows in shock and disbelief.

"No... I have to ask him exactly why he sent Nightblades out to kill Mother. "

"Nightblades, eh?"

Hawkeye paused for a short second to think. Then, he knelt down near the wall and began lightly knocking on it. He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, round object, which he gently threw on the stone floor, against the back wall. He blew on it with his fiery breath , and a small flame appeared on its string. It was burning quickly, and would soon explode, destroying the entire back wall. This was the same technique Nikita used to save Hawkeye months ago.

"Hey! What are you doing? ...Wait a minute..."

At that instant, Angela realized something horrifying.

"You're one of them, aren't you?! You're one of Navarre's greatest Nightblades! You killed Mother!" She yelled at Hawkeye.

He ignored her quiry, doubting her seriousness, and walked to the entrance of the cell, where he relocked the barred door.

He then slightly looked over his shoulder at Angela, giving her the most wicked, evil look. In a way, he look betrayed, and at the same moment, mischievous, as if planning exactly where and when to strike an attack. Unpredictable. He was absolutely unpredictable.

"I would never. How could you possibly think that?" He said, his expression still indescribable.

Before the queen could comment on his theoretical question, the small explosive burst in flames and broke down entire back wall, causing a loud thunderous blast of noise that would surely attract guards to the area.

And it did.

The ground began to lightly rumble. A drum-like beat was heard as numerous guards ran down to the dungeon, all reacting to the sound of the explosion. It was a stampede of raging ninjas, all wearing the same uniforms, holding the same daggers, with the same emotionless faces.

With no time to glance back at the crowd, or even to think, Hawkeye grabbed Angela's velvet-gloved hand and pulled her through the large opening the bomb had made.

He dashed through the darkness, small stones crackling under his feet. The sound of many footsteps echoed throughout the entire cave, as rats and bats cleared out of the way of the incoming runners. Angela was just being dragged along, barely keeping up with the Nightblade's pace. She tripped once, her legs too weak to move, but Hawkeye's hand supported her. They continued running for their lives, because they both knew that if they were ever to get caught, they would be executed. Well, Hawkeye would, but Angela would just be taken captive and then forced to give up her kingdom. And then executed.

It was only a short time before a blinding light streamed in from the path ahead of them. They stopped as a silhouetted figure appeared from the light.

"I am DURAN, son of LOKI of FORCENA! I am the Great and Almighty Knight of Gold of Forcena!" He proudly shouted, his hand clenched into a shaking fist. His golden armor shined as much as it could possibly shine. Duran's efforts of polishing it daily really did pay off.

The two escapees panicked as the paladin blocked the exit with his armor-covered body.

"Duran, MOVE!" They yelled in unison, their anxiety of the approaching ninjas growing.

"Oh, Angela. You're safe!!! And Hawkeye's with you too! This is-"

"MOVE!"

The knight backed up obediently, more confused than ever. When the path was the clear, Hawkeye and Angela dashed through, faster and swifter than ever. Once they passed through the exit, they were outside in the wondrous desert. Before them stood a few, maybe about four, loyal Altenan mages. They all held their eyes on Hawkeye, ready to attack him. There was a bitter silence, as everyone remained motionless.

Angela felt Hawkeye's hand slowly drift away from hers, which he had been holding throughout the entire escape. Worry began to overcome her emotions.

Then, the door behind them bursted open. Out came Duran, panting like crazy. He shut the door, leaning his heavy body against it.

"Mages, rest. Hawkeye, here, is not an enemy. He was the one who saved me. Start marching on forward back towards town." Angela ordered softly, not straining her voice at all. Then, she turned her head towards the thief and asked, "Hawkeye, you coming?"

"Yeah," he replied, with a small, short nod of the head. He followed the few marching soldiers, walking past Angela but then soon turning back towards her, "YOU comin'?"

Angela smiled.

"Yeah."


	5. Delightful Slaughter

**Hold On**

**Chapter 5:** Delightful Slaughter

**Author's Note**: I loathe this chapter. It was completely rushed, seeing as I wanted to release Chapter 6 really quickly. Hope you don't mind. This Chapter mostly consists of dialogue. Enjoy anyway!

It felt just like old times.

A woman, with dyed blonde hair and a large pointy purple hat, approached Angela. She didn't dare look her in the eye, as it was considered disrespectful to ever look at royalty eye-to-eye. Instead, she merely bowed her head and stared at the sand below.

"My Queen, where are we headed now?" she asked timidly, but with a clear tone of voice.

Angela swayed her head back enough to face the scared mage.

"Just follow from behind us. Hawkeye will know the way back to Deen. I'm sure of it. Now, go on and join the others." she replied, dismissing the soldier with a wave of her hand.

Angela was now walking through the seemingly endless desert beside two of her former companions, Hawkeye and Duran. She rested her arms around their necks, as they all walked happily back towards the oasis. For once, she didn't feel so alone. She felt that these two people were actually happy to get back together with her.

The sun was just beginning to set. The entire desert was completely empty, with no monsters whatsoever. Bittersweet silence flowed throughout the air. There were a few cacti and a few trees scattered on the sandy ground, but they didn't stand out very much. Everything, every path, every tree, looked exactly the same. It was a maze, only known by a native Navarran. And that's exactly what Hawkeye was.

Then, the silence was hindered.

"So, you're a queen now, huh?" Hawkeye commented, his voice being the only one in the entire wilderness.

"It's nothing I'm proud of... " Angela sighed, a blank, tired look upon her face.

"I never understood royalty... " the thief chuckled. "Now, I'm going to be a part of Navarre's Royal Family..."

"Engaged to Jessica? To tell you the truth, I never liked her much"

"Me either. I mean, I risked my life for her and I get nothing in return."

"Then, why'd you propose to her?"

"I didn't. Good old Flame Khan set us up. That old geezer..."

They both sighed in unintended unison. They were both bored, unsatisfied with the life they had been granted with, hoping it would all change within time. Yet, they knew it wouldn't

"It's not fair... Mother died too soon. I was never loved by her or by anyone at all..." Angela sighed once again.

"Angela, you've got to be kidding! I'm sure there are plenty of people out there who love you!" Hawkeyel laughed, fakely, attempting to cheer up the depressed queen.

"Like?"

"Like Victor and Duran!"

"I do not like Angela!!! ARGH!!!" Duran drew his clenched fist forward, shaking in all his anger.

"Sure you do! Come on, isn't it obvious?" Hawkeye swung his arm over and smacked Duran right on the back.

"ARRRRGH!!!!! All this CRAP is making me ANGRY!!!"

With that said, the disgruntled paladin left the group, and headed astray, pounding the ground as he walked.

"Head straight and to the right and you'll reach Deen!!!", Hawkeye shouted the loudest that he could.

"I doubt he heard you. Even if he did, he wouldn't listen."

"Well, that's Duran for you..."

Once again, they unintentionally sighed in unison.

The remaining group members continued walking on course, back towards Deen. After a few steps, Hawkeye stopped.

"What is it?" Angela asked. For once, she actually looked concerned.

"Did you just see that?" Hawkeye replied, staring off into the distance.

"What?" Angela asked, again. She squinted into the distance for a moment, but saw nothing.

"Forget it...," Hawkeye sighed, "Of course you didn't see him..."

"Who?"

"No one, forget it"

Then, Hawkeye attempted to continue walking forward, forgetting about the entire thing, but Angela grabbed his shoulder and twisted him back around.

"Who? Tell me...," she said, her eyes and voice displaying her concern.

Hawkeye began slowly walking forward, holding his hands on his belt, staring at the ground. Angela followed beside him.

"It's... It's Eagle. I keep seeing him. His clothing stained with blood; His face so pale. He keeps blaming me for his death, and the death of countless others. How I am a killer, an untrustworthy rat, a piece of crap. Then he tells me to help revive him. That way, he'll forgive me for all I've done."

"Awww... Hawkeye. That's all over now. Don't worry about it." Angela wrapped her arms around Hawkeye and gave him a tight hug.

In about half an hour, it was already dark out, and they were in Deen. Shockingly, it was empty. There were no soldiers scattered around on the sandy ground. There were no villagers outside, either. The shore was empty, too. Some of the houses had broken windows, and others had slightly burnt walls, but nothing was too drastic. There was definately some damage done here. The only visible person was Duran, standing solely in the center of the town, staring in disbelief.

"Check the houses!" Angela ordered as both her and Hawkeye ran to talk with Duran.

"What happened?!" she shouted, shaking the paladin by his shoulders.

Then, a door slammed open and a wounded mage just barely managed to walk up to the queen and her companions.

"Your Highness, I'm glad you came...," the mage spoke clearly, despite her massive wounds.

"Shut up and tell me what happened!" Angela ordered, lifting the mage's chin to face her in the eyes.

"Deen was attacked. Luckily, Flammie came just in time to deliver more soldiers, but we still lost..." the mage coughed, and took another deep breath before continuing. "We sent spies to check on the Navarre castle. You probably already left by then. The entire place was empty of anyone, they must have all escaped somewhere... Worst of all, my queen, Altena was attacked, also..."

"Attacked?! How?! We have the best defenses there! And Navarre couldn't possibly have enough soldiers to attack there! Plus, with their slowass balloon ship, they wouldn't have got there in time!" Angela shouted in disbelief and denial.

"Exactly, your highness, they got there ahead of time, probably before you even left Altena. They weren't alone, either. We received reports from General Rush, declaring that the Navarre ninjas were accompanied by Amazonesses, from Rolante."

"How many casualties?" the queen asked, afraid of what she was about to hear.

"About 230, your highness. 200 soldiers, and 30 villagers. Well over half of our entire army."

Angela took a deep breath, holding back her tears.

"Make sure everyone in the village is okay, and send a message to General Rush stating that I, the queen, am in good health, but I cannot return to Altena yet. The war is still not over."

"Understood. And, your highness, Jose arrived, hoping to assist you with his vast knowledge of geography. He said you were never good at that subject anyway."

"Tell him I'll speak to him later. As of now, I am going to bed... "

"May the Goddess bless you...," the mage bowed, before returning to the house from which she came.

"Hmph. The Goddess has already blessed me enough..."


	6. Loveless

**Hold On**

**Chapter 6:** Loveless

Those awful, dreaded words echoed through the corners of her mind. Her eyes remained open, staring blankly at the wooden floor, as her feet nervously swayed forward and back. What happened was all her fault. Everything that happened was all her fault. She knew she shouldn't have ever come to this goddam country. She should've just stayed back in Altena and forgot about the thought of revenge. But how could she possibly ignore her own mother's death? She couldn't.

It was all too much for her to endure at one moment. She couldn't take it anymore. She had to escape it all.

She slipped on a crimson leotard and stepped outside, her bare feet sinking into the soft sand, already numb from the severe cold. All she heard was the hypnotizing melody of chirping crickets, and all she could smell was smoke from the fire they had that night. It was a chilly and dark evening, and the tight outfit she wore provided no warmth at all. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered in the cold of the desert night. Yet, all this pain was nothing compared to the pain she had previously endured.

She hoped to run far, far away. She planned to change her name, maybe even dye her hair a different color. She would settle down in the Fairy Village, Diorre. After all, she already had elven ears. There, in that isolated forest village, she would live her life, far away from all society. Maybe it was a bit of an obscure plan for life, but it seemed realistic enough to actually carry out. And at this point, she wanted to get as far away from here as she could. She felt the child within her once again, yearning to escape from all tragedy and responsibility.

Angela wandered around the wasteland, now abandoned by all the creatures and monsters that once inhabited it. She drifted about the area, with no actual destination. The farther she walked, the farther away she traveled from town, and that was good enough for her. It took well over fifteen minutes until she settled near a single palm tree. Although it appeared to be just like any other tree, it seemed somehow different; it was in its own solitude, away fromi the forest. Leaning against it, Angela began contemplating everything. Frst her mother died, and now her kingdom was almost destroyed. Worst of all, she didn't know at all where the Navarre Army hid. The desert was too large; they could be anywhere.

She didn't understand any of it, and she didn't know at all what to do. Everything was so confusing. Now, she had to admit, she wasn't respnsible enough; she wasn't ready for this.

She felt alone in the world. Even through times like these, she would have a smile on her face. She was always a carefree, spoiled, bratty princess. But not anymore, she couldn't act so childish. She couldn't hide her worries behind a smile. Everyone's expectations of her were raised so high, she couldn't reach them anymore. Now, she felt no one understood her at all, not even her best friend Victor. All he would ever say is that she looked beautiful and she was such a wonderful person. He'd pile compliments on top of her, just like any other person would do.

Then, she felt the touch of a finger sliding down her skin of her bare shoulder. She turned to see a pair of amber eyes. They glowed with the reflection of the moon, like pools of shining silver and gold. It was too dark to see the person's face clearly, but she already knew who it was. It was Hawkeye.

Angela couldn't hide it anymore. She burst into tears, as he reached out and embraced her. She held her arms tightly around him, letting the drips of water escape her eyes and fall down onto the thief's shoulder. Everything: every problem she was facing, every single emotion she was feeling; She had to let them all out.

"Everything. Everything that happened is all my fault. All the soldiers dead, all the innocent people dead, all my own people dead, everything, everyone."

"Shhh.... it's not your fault. None of it... Don't say that. Come on, Angie..."

Of all people, she had probably hurt him the most. She destroyed his kingdom, destroyed his pride, and made all the people that ever loved him, everyone of his kingdom, now hate him. All that he fought so hard to get was now ripped away all because of her, all because he chose to rescue her from that dungeon cell. And he didn't blame any of his loss on her. Nothing was her fault. He didn't hate her at all.

He gently lifted her chin up towards him, so he had a clear view of her tear-filled eyes. He played around with the two strands of lavender hair falling onto her face, showing the usual smirk upon his face. He never showed the slightest bit of worry.

"Listen, it's not as bad as you think. Remember the Mana Tree? How all hope was lost? And the lives of everything and everyone in the entire world were determined by that one battle against the Dragon Emperor? I never saw you shed a tear throughout the entire time. You could get through this just the same. Now, come on, how's about we go back to Deen? Hmm?"

Angela nodded slightly, her eyes still filled with tears. She rested her head on Hawkeye's shoulder, while he held his arm around her back. They strolled under the moonlight peacefully, with sweet, insignificant silence flowing through the air. They didn't have to speak to understand what either of them were feeling.

They were so obviously similar. Both were alone in the world, and neither cared about that, or about anything at all. They did as they pleased. Now, they just had one more rule to break.

When they finally reached the campgrounds on the outskirts of town, mages and soldiers alike were sprawled upon the sandy ground. They had no beds or rooms to sleep in during these tireless nights. The Inn was already occupied by the queen. The Oasis Village was empty once again, but now, the villagers didn't feel the fear and terror of destruction. They slept peacefully, the moon and stars being their only light through the darkness of the night.

Angela and Hawkeye made their way through, carefully stepping over and passed the resting soldiers.

Hawkeye let go out the girl. Without speaking another word, he turned around and was ready to leave, before he was stopped by the sound of her melodious voice.

"Hawkeye..."

"Hmm?" He turned back around, already aware of what the following words would imply.

"Where are you going? It's too cold to sleep outside, don't you think?" Angela asked, a devilish smirk upon her pale face. Her mood had drastically changed, hopefully for the better.

Hawkeye didn't even have to respond. As soon as he entered the inn, both Angela and him knew what they were getting themselves into. They both knew what was about to happen.

Now, the room looked nothing like an inn. There was new red wallpaper applied, and in the middle of the room stood a bed, big enough for two, with black, satin sheets. In the corner, there was a single burning candle, letting off a faded glow. The entire bedroom smelled of a sharp, yet sweet, fragrance. It was a raspberry-scented perfume, with an addition of other exotic fruits.

Angela swayed her head back to face Hawkeye, as she heard the door shut close. She was at a loss for words as the thief came dangerously close to her, but she was the one to lay the first move. She kissed him, straight on the lips, with no hesistation whatsoever. It wasn't a regular peck on the lips; it was a kiss during which both people's tongues somewhat dance - making out, so to speak. Angela smoothly removed his vest and shirt and threw it to a random corner of the room.

Angela held her hand on the back of Hawkeye's neck and guided him down onto the bed; his body over hers. They were both aware that what they were doing was wrong, and, yet, they couldn't care less.

Hawkeye, his tan back now completely bare, took his sweet time nibbling on her neck, while she just closed her eyes and absorbed the immense amount of comfort. She could feel his lips on her neck, and his hand gently riding down her body. She didn't know, or care, why they were doing this, but she didn't recoil. She gave herself to him, letting him do whatever he pleased with her extravagant body. After all, he knew exactly what he was doing.

The queen's leotard was falling loose, revealing her scarlet corset. It wasn't even a necessary accesory for her; she already had the best body in all of Altena. She wore it just to raise her self-esteem, and, of course, to keep her body in shape at all times.

They both knew they were just doing this for their own pleasure. They were just playing around with each other, attempting to discover how far they would really go. Both of them were just laying their minds off all their true worries and problems, escaping from reality for just one night. And, although they felt they never could love each other, it was still fun for them to pretend.

Behind them, the one remaining candle continued burning, letting off a faded, eerie glow. Then, there was silence, as it finally burnt out, and the room was engulfed in darkness once again.


	7. Forsaken

**Hold On**

**Chapter 7:** Forsaken

**Author's Note:** Sorry for taking so long to update, but you all know how I am. Actually, maybe you don't. Well, it always takes me awhile to update. Like, six months. sigh Yeah, that's the way I am.

This chapter's alright, IMO. It's definately one of my favorites, next to 4 and 6. Hawkeye's going to lose his pupils again.... ooh! HOTT! It's a bit confusing, though, seeing as it keeps changing between Duran and Angela. I don't really like Duran much, but I just now realized that he has somewhat of an important role in this story. I hope this chapter doesn't make you hate Hawkeye... I didn't intend on making him so evil (he shall be a Ninja forever!!!! Err... Nightblade. Same thing).

Anyway, I think I'm gonna end this fic soon. It's a bit too depressing and dramatic, don't you think? Plus, I really don't like the way it's turning out. Gives me a bad feeling.

(BTW, sorry for the lack of description in the conversation with the maids and Jose. I got a bit tired and annoyed at that part, so I just made it all dialogue.)

---

Her glistening emerald eyes blinked open, awakening to the sweet sound of rain beating against the glass window. She swayed her head to the side, but no one slept there beside her.

She was alone, laying naked in satin, sweat-soaked bed sheets.

In a rush, she arose and, covering herself with blankets, examined the room. On the nightstand, there was that same vanilla scented candle. Its wax was cold and hard now, having already solidified hours prior. In another corner, her clothes laid untouched, but none of his belongings were in sight. Furthermore, her necklace wasn't there, leaving her neck to be as bare as the rest of her body.

She paused for a moment, searching for what emotions she felt, or should have felt, at that moment.

With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, Angela leaned her back against the wall behind her. Wrapped in bed sheets, she stared through the blurry window across from her, rain beating against the clear glass. The fog and rain combined made everything outside look blurry, with a teal coloring. A few barely noticable tinges of purple and red were spotted, probably from the uniforms of Altenan or Forcenan soldiers.

She couldn't care less about the war. She was sick of it. All of it. Yet, she was the one that started it.

It was all for her mother. Her dear, beloved mother. She was going through this war all for the sake of a woman who never even loved her. Did she even love her mother? Of course she did. Or maybe... maybe she got into this war simply to make it seem as if she did love her mother. Was all this war and catastrophe simply meant to make her develop feelings for her dead mother?! No. That couldn't have been why she signed the document.

Slowly, her eyes began losing their glow, as her skin went pale. She just gazed out that window and thought about everyone and everything. That's all she ever had to do - think. She would concentrate and then a spark of light would appear infront of her - or a fireball would form in the palm of her hand. Yet, now, even her magic couldn't help the situation. She was on her own.

Her thoughts drifted from her mother over to him. Yes, him, the suave traitor, whom she couldn't hate... or love. As her mind focused on him and everything related to him, her face lost all emotion. It had no reason to bear any expression. She had no reason to cry. In the depths of her mind and heart, she still felt no love for him. She felt no love for anyone or anything.

She had only known him for a mere year - the length of their journey. Even through that time, there was really no "magical" connection between the two. Everything that occurred the prior night was just the spur of the moment. They didn't think, or care. But they both got what they needed, and wanted.

The door slammed open, letting in a calm breeze. However, she didn't seem to notice, or, for that matter, care.

The visitor's shining gold armor clanked with every step he took, as his long red hair bounced along to the rhythm. At his side was a sheath and a sword, carried by a belt tied around his waist. On his back, he carried a golden shield, one that had a complex pattern resembling a crown carved into it. And, of course, there was his smile. He was actually smiling. Usually, he spent his time getting angry and frustrated. But, no, not now. He was truly a jolly "family guy" who defended the poor and innocent and, at the same time, he was a deadly warrior filled with the power to kill and destroy. He was the exact definition of a paladin.

He ran into the room, practically shaking the ground with all his armor. After taking a moment to catch his breath, he proudly announced his good news.

"Angela! Troops from Forcena have arrived! We're all ready for battle!" he cheered.

There was no response, just frozen silence.

"Angela?"

Duran approached her with caution. He carefully stepped forward to get a glimpse of her pale, blank, emotionless face. The happiness in his eyes soon disappeared, replaced by worry and confusion.

A single word escaped Angela's mouth, cold and harsh.

"Leave."

"But-"

"Duran. Leave. Now."

"But what about the war?! We've got all the troops outside for NOTHING?! "

Rage was growing inside of her, as images of Hawkeye blinked on and off in her mind. She promised herself she wouldn't cry; she wouldn't show any weakness. However, she couldn't hold back any longer. Clear tears of sorrow and regret escaped her eyes, gracefully sliding down her cheeks. However, she violently wiped them away, attempting not to display any frailty, especially in front of Duran. For once, she wanted to be alone.

'You can't be this weak', her mind commanded, 'You can't get upset over something like this... but...'

She arose to her feet in a wave of rage, still holding the bedsheets over her, yet revealing her bare shoulders.

"Holy Mana Goddess! Duran! Just leave before I fry your ass with fireballs!"

There was a royal, commanding tone in her voice; one that wasn't there before. Although her words were not exactly of the sophisticated nature, she sounded just like her mother. In a way, the similiarity frightened her. Her own transformation into maturity seemed a bit unreal.

Still, at that moment, Duran didn't realize exactly what was wrong with this situation. He, too, had a look of anger upon his face.

The two remained standing, staring at the rage in each other's eyes, both breathing hard. Silence returned to the room for a few moments, until Angela's voice finally cut through it.

"That's it! FIREBALL!"

She drew her hand forward, attempting to release all the mana energy stored inside and transform it into three small balls of fire.

Of course, she had planned for it to be a weak fireball meant only to scare Duran, not to actually injure him. Her true intention was merely to possibly put a jolt of shock into his body, nothing more.

However... the air remained the same, free of fire or smoke. Not even one single puff appeared from her palm. Nothing.

Noticing Angela's failure and unstable emotions, Duran gave in to her commands. He bowed his head, as he carried out the orders given to him. After all, he was sent to Navarre merely to be a bodyguard, nothing more. He wasn't there as a companion, but as a servant. And, servants are meant to blindlessly serve, not to question the authority. That was what he was taught; It was what he believed.

In a few seconds, the wooden door slammed shut, a gust of wind shooting up from the force.

Angela was left alone once again.

The sky was still gray, and the rain was still pouring down, but no one seemed to mind (certainly not Duran, of all people). He was perched up against the front wall of the Inn, tilting his head down, causing his head piece to overshadow his eyes. As the queen's royal bodyguard, it remained his duty to guard her majesty at all times, whether or not their so-called friendship had ended.

Maids scurried into the Inn, holding various cosmetics and beauty utensils. The gentle breeze they created seemed to soothe his soul, and lower his rage just a tiny bit.

As the door drifted shut, and the maids began their work, Duran couldn't help but eavesdrop on their conversation and peek into the room. After all, he was directly next to the window.

"Your Highness! ... Are those tears streaming from your eyes?"

An extremely young maid, possibly only fourteen years of age, took a close look at Angela's face. Her short teal colored hair seemed to remind the queen of the rain outside.

"No, my eyes are just leaking out streams of liquid."

It was quite a rude reply, but she was in no mood for politeness.

The little girl remained silent, lightly clasping her hand over her mouth, as if in sympathy... or even pity. Obviously, she didn't understand what the queen meant.

"Well, what do you think they are?!"

"Oh, oh, of course. I'll get you cleaned up right away!"

The young, inexperienced girl ran to the other side of the room, grabbing bunches of soft cotton tissues to wipe the queen's face clean. Behind her, a much older woman, folding clothes of some sort, let out a laugh.

"It might be a good idea to get dressed, too, my queen" she commented, noticing the bare shoulders Angela was just barely revealing. "Who was it, my dear?"

"Who was who?"

"Oh, you know what I'm talking about. I've known you all your life. Now, who was it?"

She let out a sigh, directly before she said her reply.

" ... the thief... "

Immediately, Duran turned away from the window, and let out a growl. A fire was burning inside of him, growing every single time those words echoed in his mind.

That was all the proof he needed in order to kill Hawkeye.

He made his way through the empty town, searching for an exit, passing by the ordinary beach houses and palm trees. His boots had already become disgustingly ugly in the brown color of wet sand, but he didn't even seem to notice. All he seemed to care about was revenge.

His eyes shined with fortitude, jus as his armor shined with gold. He was determined to hunt down the escapee, no matter what it took.

As he took his first step outside of the town, into the wilderness, he could feel his rage growing. He dashed forward, passing by the puny, weakling monsters. He had the power to destroy them with one strike of his sword, but he avoided the temptation. Instead, using his instincts (he had a great sense of direction), he directed himself to the Navarre Kingdom Fortress. The path was just beginning. It would take a long time until he reached the castle, and he lacked that kind of patience.

As he thought more and more of the traitor, he couldn't help but be reminded of a certain Crimson Wizard from his past...

Angela rested on her bed, sitting up straight while idly swinging her feet back and forth. She was already dressed in a casual, black leather leotard, accompanied by a long black cape, tinted with gold.

The door swung open, catching her attention, as a short, slightly chubby man walked through. He looked identical to the elder of the village, despite the fact that they weren't relate in any way, shape, or form.

"You called for me, your highness?"

"Jose, you old geezer! You came! It's time I listen to you, for once." Angela smiled as she looked up to see her former teacher.

"That's right. You're not a princess anymore! Hohohohohoho!!! " he replied, laughing like a madman, although there was really no joke told, nor was anything particularly funny enough to laugh about. However, two minutes later, his laughing transformed into coughing. The smile disappeared from Angela's face.

"... Yeah."

"So, what seems to be the problem, my dear child?"

"... I... I've lost all my magic. I couldn't even cast a fireball..."

"That is quite unfortunate. My dear... you haven't lost your mother's necklace, have you?"

Her eyes turned to the old man, as a slight feeling of shock ran through her body.

"Yeah, actually, I have... a thief ran away with it this morning... How'd you know?"

"Well, there are some things I just know, my dear. You see, that necklace that your mother gave you was the source of her power, and the power of Altena."

"So now none of the mages can use magic, either?!"

"I'm afraid so, child. The Spectral Diamond holds the last bit of mana stone within it..."

"Well, then, what are you doing just sitting there, old man?! We've got to get it back! It's got to be at Desert Storm... I just know it!"

The rain was pouring down now, its rage slowly growing through the passing of every second. At that moment, the desert felt empty; with only the company of two beings.

Duran wasn't at all surprised. Throughout the entire mana journey, he had never once trusted the theif. And, now, he was glad he never did.

"So... it was you...", he whispered "You... You were the one!!!!!"

At the sound of the voice, Hawkeye turned around, refraining from picking the lock. The paladin charged toward him, screaming in rage, pointing his sword directly at his target.

The first drops of blood were shed. The dark, crimson fluid dripped onto the sand, as the victim held his stomach, clenching his teeth in pain. In a mere two seconds, his eyes opened once again, now filled with the determination to fight back. He drew forth two daggers, and, hiding them behind him, ran forward. He slashed twice, and then flipped backwards to dodge a counter-attack. While still in the air, he threw a few sharp, metal, stars forward. Two of the shurikens hit his opponent directly in the right arm.

That wasn't near enough to stop a paladin.

Duran, ignoring his wounds, charged forward once again. Again, he screamed in all his anger and rage. However, within the blink of an eye, Hawkeye was gone, and the paladin ended up crashing into the rocky wall, as a dagger swiftly slashed his armored back. He turned around, but was still too slow to catch even a glimpse of the nightblade.

'I won't lose!' he assured himself.

After just a few more hits, he couldn't take anymore. No, it wasn't the pain that bothered him; it was the humiliation! He was a Knight of Gold, and possibly the strongest warrior in all of Forcena. It would be a disgrace for him to lose to a petty thief. Then again, he was forgetting the fact that the "petty thief" was the strongest warrior in all of Navarre.

He remained standing, hardly breathing at all. He drew forth his sword and plunged it into the ground. A light cut through the black clouds and engulfed him, as his sword began glowing a pale white color. He felt its warmth and strength, and smiled in reply. Now, he held the power of light in his hand, the force that could surely destroy a nightblade such as Hawkeye.

"Saint Saber..." he whispered, as he held his sword above him. The light appeared and shined behind him for a moment, but soon vanished, planting all its power into his sword. The weapon held an eerie glow, shooting sparks from its tip with every slash made.

"Now, I'm ANGRY!!!" he dashed ahead, sword in hand. Uncontrollably, he slashed, letting the sparks fly from his weapon.

Hawkeye held his arms infront of him, attempting to shield himself. However, it was no use. The light was destroying him, endlessly cutting through him.

"Flashing Sword!"

The paladin held his sword in the air, as a blast of light escaped it and spread across the area. Soon, that red light disappeared, as fire and explosions replaced it. The immense force blew Hawkeye against the jagged, rocky wall, its flames only slightly burning him. However, that seemingly invincible wave of light had injured him enough. His chances of surviving were very low now.

It was no surprise. He fell to the ground, blood dripping from his mouth. His eyes barely remained open; now only a bit of the amber color was visible.

Duran silently cheered in triumph. He held his sword firmly, ready to deliver the final blow. Suddenly, a thundering noise was heard from the black clouds above. It was then that he felt sudden pain, as if millions of needles were ripping through his skin and swimming in his body.

It was the rain - Black Rain. Little drops of pain poured down from the sky, embedded with the power of darkness. Smoke and fumes rose from the ground, creating a mixture of water and gas.

Acid. It felt like acid, plunging from the sky. Now, sweat and rain alike were falling onto the ground, sinking into the sand.

He cringed his teeth and closed his eyes in an attempt to ease the pain. He swore to himself that he wouldn't fall. He wouldn't give up. He would stay loyal to his queen.

Falling down onto the ground, landing on his palms and knees, he prevented the rain from scarring his face. Although this left him off-guard, his opponent, who had vanished out-of-sight, didn't seem to have the intention of attacking anytime soon.

Slowly, his eyes blinked open, as he realized the rain returned to its former, pure state. Relieved, he stood up, and returned to his fighter stance. However, as he glanced at his surroundings, his face was all at once shot with fear, shock, and terror. Standing motionless, he dropped his sword, his mouth still hanging open.

There, surrounding him, were maybe five or six nightblades, each equipped with a pair of thin, razor-sharp daggers. Their faces held no emotion; Their amber eyes just focused on him, as if analyzing his every weakness.

Hawkeye was staring at his helpless prey from afar. His eyes curved, slanting to create an evil, dirty scowl. There was a flash of light, and, suddenly, all the amber disappeared, leaving bare, white eyes. The darkness was growing from within him, and he couldn't help but watch as his replicas lunged forward, their pure black capes flowing in the wind they created. Daggers slashed and sliced the defenseless soldier of Forcena.

The paladin collapsed, his previously pure golden and white armor now stained with his own crimson blood and the wet dirt of the desert.


	8. Weak and Powerless

**Hold On**

**Chapter 8:** Weak and Powerless

**Author's Note:** Once again, sorry for taking so long to update... I was completely drained of all my inspiration. A lot of stuff happened - some ultimate tragic stuff that seemed close to being the worst thing in the universe, and some super ultra happy stuff that made me jump into leaps of joy (literally! no joke!). But, anyway, I'm still here. That's good, right?

Just to tell you, I hate the number eight. I LOATHE IT. Eight is my least favorite number. Yes, I am sad enough to dislike numbers. But, oh well! Besides, all the coolest people in the world are born in the eighth month, so it can't be THAT bad of a number.

By the way, I'm assuming Duran's immense will power and determination was what granted him the ability to cast Saint Saber. Oh, and I'm also assuming Black Rain is a skill, not necessarily a magic spell. Thus, it does not require "summoning" the spirits for help. (Ugh. My image of summoners has been totally ruined, thanks to the evil creature that is Yuna).

Surprisingly, I find the plot in this story actually involves more elements from Hawkeye's scenario than from Angela's. This chapter is not too good in the beginning. I'm absolutely sick of describing armies and soldiers and military conversations, so I just made Angela waltz right out of town as soon as she could. The rest of the chapter, though, is actually quite interesting. Stuff heats up with the invasion of Navarre... and an encounter between Hawkeye and Angela! Oooh! You could never get enough of Hawkeye! Too much HOTTness!

Oh, I've also decided to add in a male mage into this chapter, just because I'm sick of describing the blonde females. Besides, aren't there always male red mages at the tavern/inn in Altena? By the way, the male mage is actually based on a HOTT historical Chinese figure (with a horrible voice) from Dynasty Warriors 4. I'm pathetic, aren't I? Watch - in the next chapter, there'll be a swift Japanese female assassin/ninja called Ayame. And, yes, I got the new A Perfect Circle album.

Anyway, as always, enjoy reading.

---

"Where is he?! Just when I need him, he's gone! Abandoning me like this! And he calls himself a Knight of Gold..."

Angela impatiently paced back and forth through her dimly lit bedroom, holding the palm of her hand to her forehead in a futile attempt to ease the pulsing pain of her headache. She bit her lip in worry, partially damaging her delicate crimson lipstick. However, at that moment, her appearance was the least of her worries.

She undoubtedly believed Duran hadn't left because of the quarrel they had, but instead, simply felt like... going for a pleasant stroll through the desert and intentionally leaving her behind. And, of course, she in no way worried for his health and defense as opposed to her own. At that moment, she wished she hadn't left Bob, her other bodyguard, in Forcena. She was feeling uncomfortably insecure now, dreading any upcoming surprises.

The inn's wooden door creaked open, admitting more light into the room. Angela immediately turned to see her visitor, her eyes still getting accustomed to the new light shining in.

In the doorway stood a relatively tall and muscular mage, who was, surprisingly, male. Soft, shiny brown hair flowed just a few inches past his shoulders, and a thin, green bandana was tied across his forehead. In his right hand, he held an elaborately decorated spear, which stood at a slightly greater height than him. His face was sharp and amazingly clean to the point where Angela couldn't stop staring in awe at his innocence and purity.

"My Queen! The troops have arrived, and are ready to leave instantly!!" The boy screeched, with the voice of a teenage boy just beginning to undergo puberty. His repulsive, squealing voice did not match his handsome looks at all.

"Oh... right. Good. That's good. We'll leave immediately, in that case." Angela replied almost hesitantly, momentarily glancing at the mage as she passed by him on her way out the door. Unfortunately, he was not coming into battle with her - mages are absolutely useless without their magic.

Stepping out onto the desert sand, surprisingly, she felt no heat or humidity. The previous rain had washed it all away. For a single brief second, she closed her eyes, and breathed in the cool breeze, feeling the fresh scent of the oasis water. Her eyes blinked open earlier than she expected, and she returned to reality.

Before having the chance to indulge herself in pondering the many ways that the attractive male she had just encountered had an absolutely awful voice, the queen was immediately crowded by many of her advisers. Among them was her former magic teacher, Jose. The old man slowly walked towards her, bushy mustache and thick eyebrows twitching random moments. Before he could speak, Angela lightly placed a long, slender finger to his lips.

"Don't waste your breath, old man. I know where we're going, and why." She paused, staring into his eyes for an unspoken response. "I don't know what kind of power that necklace contains... but... I'll take care of myself. So don't worry too much."

The old man's eyes opened enough for the dark navy color of his irises to actually be visible, and, after bowing respectfully, he headed back to the tavern, followed by the other advisors. For a second, the queen calmly smiled, grateful that her pathetic attempt at optimism had actually succeeded.

She turned around, and strutted out of town, off to meet her new temporary army sent in by King Richard. After a few steps, she saw them - a stinging combination of gray, red, and yellow. As expected, they were all male, and unreasonably loyal to whoever led them (who, in this case, was Angela). All standing up straight and tense, they created three rows of one dozen, making a total of three dozen soldiers. Angela was relieved that she knew how to count correctly.

"This will take some time getting used to..." she sighed "Let's get moving. Head straight for Desert Storm."

The march began, creating a river of soldiers flowing in the same direction. After making sure all necessary items - most of them having been purchased at the Black Market - were securely packed into her gold-colored leather bag (which, of course, perfectly matched the outfit she was wearing), Angela swung it over her shoulder and blended into the stream of soldiers. Safely protected by the dozens of experienced knights surrounding her, she felt her headache fade away.

Although the clouds remained dark, the rain had completely stopped. Most of the sand had dried, becoming silky and smooth again, but drops of rain were still slowly sliding down the long leaves of palm trees.

Due to their fast pace, the army reached their destination in an incredibly brief amount of time. However, no one had a chance to celebrate this record time, as every single individual noticed a seemingly lifeless body laying in their path to Desert Storm.

"Duran?!" A random soldier screamed out, verbally expressing everyone's thoughts.

Indeed, it was Duran.

Immediately after the Forcenan soldiers noticed their fellow paladin, a few men ran to his aid - slapping his cheeks to wake him up, calling his name to gain his attention, and removing broken pieces of armor to decrease the weight of his body.

Duran's eyes were peacefully shut; his armor and skin were tainted with blood and dirt. The injuries all over his body looked excruciatingly painful - particularly the stab wound directly below his left lung, forcing him to take very small breaths in order to lessen the stinging. The holes and dents in his formerly white armor were very evident - Judging from the number of wounds, he must have been attacked by a large number of men.

His red hair, wet with either rain or sweat, spread in waves around his head.

Angela stood motionless, her eyes filled with both shock and fear.

Too many questions and emotions shot through her mind.

She felt the sudden urge to fall to her knees and cry again. This is not a time to be wishing for something that can't come back, her mind scolded her. However, her desire for the past didn't fade.

She wanted to lie in bed, in her former bedroom, with the doves freely flying outside her window. She wanted to soar through the clouds, holding onto Flammie's soft fur and screaming in joy, while her two comrades attempted to convince the white dragon to slow down. She wanted the past to return. She wanted the war to be over. She wanted to be anywhere but here - anytime but now.

"... Your Highness, are you alright?" A guard captain inquired, bravely, his voice snapping the queen back to her regular self.

"Yes... yes, of course." She answered, her determined attitude returning, "Leave a dozen soldiers here to carry Duran back to Deen safely and quickly. The rest of the army will stay with me."

Without waiting for the captain's response, she strided past him, and gracefully fell to her knees on the sandy ground near Duran. Holding his sweaty cheeks with her gloved hands, she guided his face towards her. His eyes twitched slightly, desperately attempting to open, and a faint smile formed on his face.

After taking a deep breath, she spoke to him.

"Duran..." She whispered softly, sympathetically smiling with her eyes. She remained gazing at him, searching for the reflective cerulean color in his pupils. "Duran... stay alive..."

There was no obvious answer from him - it probably would've hurt too much. He thought it was the Goddess speaking to him, welcoming him to the afterlife.

Angela's eyes drifted away from Duran for a moment, noticing his blood-stained sword laying within her reach. The seal of Forcena, carved into the golden handle of the sword, enticed her. The blade yearned for more blood. However, she did not give in to the temptation. Instead, she looked back to the paladin resting his face in her hands.

Assuming her friend was ready to go, she willingly released hold of him. A few of her men lifted the paladin from the ground, and began their hopefully short journey back to Deen. The beating of their jogging feet against the desert floor was very audible, even as their distance grew farther away. It was only after they completely faded from her sight, that Angela raised herself from the ground, wiping grains of wet sand from her legs.

In silence, she headed towards the elaborately decorated entrance door of the fortress. With much struggle, two of the idle Forcenan troops respectfully pulled it open for her. She took a step forward, seeing nothing but black within, even with the outside light shining through.

Well-aware that she was illegally breaking into another Kingdom's capital building, Angela entered the darkness with much caution, allowing a few guards to come ahead of her for protection. As she took another step, hearing the small stones and dark sand crack and crumble underneath her feet, the doors behind her closed shut, leaving her and her small squad isolated from the remainder of the army.

Fearing an enemy ambush or a surprise attack, she dared not move or speak. Instead, her eyes frantically scanned the room for anything at all identifiable. Suddenly, two doors ahead of her, identical in appearance to the entrance doors, burst open. Still suspicious, she walked through the doorway carefully, watching her surroundings. The sound of footsteps behind her indicated that her guards were, thankfully, following her. She hoped that by the time she encountered Hawkeye, the remainder of her army would have found a way into the fortress. She doubted that her and her two guards could defeat a nightblade.

There was nothing ahead. The golden sand held no footsteps. The houses, shielded with jagged rock walls, appeared to be empty. There were no signs of life.

An extreme amount of tension disappeared from her, and she began walking with complete confidence. After taking a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure her bodyguards still existed, Angela gloriously pushed open the two doors closest to her. A navy blue carpet, embroidered with gold silk, lead the path to yet another pair of thick doors. There were no windows or openings for wind to pass through; the air felt dense and humid. The torches, hanging parallel to each other on the golden brick walls, simultaneously ignited into strong fires, illuminating the otherwise dark room.

However, Angela was not frightened or threatened by this magic. After all, a nightblade needed skill and experience to control the elements, not mana.

She preceded forward with self-assurance, tainted with only a slight feeling of worry. Tightly gripping her staff, she allowed her two guards to silently pull open the doors for her.

No one. No one was there.

She found herself in an empty room. Judging from the bar and the numerous staircases leading to places unknown, she assumed it was formerly the center of life at the fortress. She saw a doorway directly in her path. With light from the many torches burning around the room, she saw that the room ahead of her held a long table, most likely used for massive feasts.

Frustrated, Angela ran through the dining room, knocking down random chairs as she brushed against them in her frantic rush.

She came to another hallway, and hurried through the nearest pair of doors.

She stopped.

There he was, waiting for her, his body languidly sprawled across a bed in the room.

He stood, a sinister smirk on his face.

As he walked forward, his shining black cape trailing behind him, two shurikens appeared from both of his dark sleeves. Apathetically staring into Angela's emerald eyes, he carelessly launched his weapons forward. Creating an almost unreal breeze as they swept through the air, the shurikens just barely dodged the queen's ears, forcing adrenaline to shoot through her body. She gulped quietly as she heard the painful cries of the two guards behind her, dying from the sudden blades violently shot into their throats.

His smirk transformed into a smile, displaying admirable white teeth.

The doors behind the queen firmly shut. She didn't react to the noise, keeping her eyes focused on her enemy.

Hawkeye's eyes were no longer pools of beautiful amber; they were red as blood, red as cherries, red as a delicate feather of the ancient scarlet phoenix. They no longer shined as they previously did in the moonlight. Instead, they were blemished with malice, tainted with mortal sin.

Angela saw him, then, for who he really was.

Red eyes. Pale skin. White fangs. And yet, he still had that seductive voice.

"Jagan?!" she gasped. She slammed her back against the shut doors behind her, her eyes widening in shock and revelation.

"I'm glad you remembered me, Princess." he crept forth; the pleasure in his voice was very discomforting.

"When, in the Goddess' name, did you come back to life?!"

"When did I acquire this body? Oh, this morning. It seems your dear friend Hawkeye finally gave in to the illusions of Eagle I've been using to lure him. Yes, this morning, he finally stole your beloved diamond, finally allowing me to possess him. I've been waiting here for you, waiting to meet you again and dispose of you once and for all, so that I may finish my business in peace. Wouldn't that be lovely? To finally rest in peace? Ah, I sometimes yearn for such pleasure."

Her eyes squinted in anger, now. Her heart was beating in regular intervals once again. She was no longer in shock, no longer afraid. Although her concern for her necklace was strong, it was overpowered by her worry of forever losing a companion. The diamond no longer mattered.

"... Give Hawkeye back to me."

"I'm afraid I can't quite do that, Princess. I need his body for... certain reasons. Ah, not like it matters to you anyway. I'll kill you soon. And, after I complete my mission, I'll rid myself of this body, too. So you'll both die in the end! Wouldn't that be lovely? Restless souls eternally wandering the world, seeking revenge and justice? Ha! I'd love to see dear old Hawkeye doing that!"

Angela gave no response. She was aggravated at his conceit, bothered by the superiority he assumed he had.

In a swift and sudden motion, she flipped her staff vertically. With confidence and a desire for revenge, she stabbed it into Jagan's stomach, piercing through pale flesh. As she felt the vampire's body go limp, she removed her weapon and quickly stepped aside.

He fell onto the stone ground, blood pouring from his wound. Licking blood from his lips, he turned around to face Angela. Her staff's sharp end was pointed towards his throat, foolishly threatening to kill him.

"Don't you understand?! If you kill me, you kill him. You can't do anything to avoid this!"

Angela stared at the vampire's red eyes, seeking a trace of the amber that formerly existed there. The torches' light reflected in the red, and, in a quick flash, she saw it. She saw the amber, holding conflict and turmoil.

But she believed in Hawkeye.

So, she dropped her weapon and closed her eyes, losing sight of the red eyes.

"I won't let Jagan kill you, but I can't stop him from hurting you." His voice gently spoke in her mind, reassuring her to trust in him.

In a moment, she felt his lips join with hers. Poison breath began entering her body, the smoke mixing into her lungs, into her bloodstream. She was losing consciousness, and began falling limp.

"I'm sorry." He whispered in her mind.

But she smiled. She would free him, even if it meant forever sacrificing magic. She promised.


End file.
